The Yule Brawl: Five Years Later
by kennagirl
Summary: So much can change in five years and yet still stay the same. (Part 12 of 13 in the Candy Cane! collection.)


Ron stared out the window of Shell Cottage, watching the snow build on the sill. It was the evening of December 25 and he and Hermione were visiting Bill and Fleur for Christmas. There were lots of presents that morning, even for Fleur's baby who wasn't due till late April. One of the upstairs rooms was so filled with baby gear and stuffed animals, Bill had had trouble closing the door. Speaking of Bill, he had been called in to work due to some issues with lots of people emptying accounts. Bill hated the desk job, but with Fleur being pregnant, it was best so he could be nearby.

Ron turned from the window and went to sit on the couch, placing an arm around Hermione, who was talking with Fleur, and planted a kiss on her cheek. Though they had been together for a year-and-a-half, she still blushed slightly at this show of affection.

Ron stuck his hand in his pocket, then pulled it out. He nodded slightly to Fleur, who changed the direction of the conversation with ease.

"We 'ave known each uzzer for so long, 'aven't we, 'Ermione?" she asked suddenly.

"Er, yes, I guess so," Hermione replied.

"'Ow long? Five years?"

"That sounds about right."

"Do you remember what 'appened exactly five years ago tonight?"

"That was the night of the Yule Ball, wasn't it?"

Fleur clapped excitedly. "Ooh, you remember as well! Wasn't ze Great 'All gorgeous?"

Hermione's eyes unfocused slightly as if she was seeing it again. "It was like a dream. But I got the impression that you didn't care for it that much."

"I simply was not used to ze Eenglish décor after years at Beauxbatons," Fleur said dismissively. "But you were absolutely radiant, especially next to Viktor." She giggled. "'E was not exceptionally good-looking, but 'e must have been an interesting escort. More so zan zat Monsieur Robert Cravey."

Ron leaned over to Hermione's ear and whispered, "Who is Robert Cravey?"

"She means Roger Davies," Hermione replied.

"Oui, 'im. 'E was not so smart, nor 'alf as 'andsome as Bill. Alzough, 'e was a decent kisser."

"Don't let Bill catch you saying that," Hermione teased.

"Oh, whatever," Fleur retorted. "Bill and I 'ave no secrets from each uzzer. I'm sure you and Ronald 'ave no secrets, either. 'E knows all about you and Viktor, and you know all about 'im and ze girl 'e took to ze Ball."

"Actually," Hermione turned to Ron with a gleam in her eye, "Ronald never told me anything about his date with Padma."

Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione, cringing away. She only called him Ronald when he was in some kind of trouble.

"Really?" Fleur was surprised. "I was told your big fight zat night was about ze partners you each chose. Oh, well," she said, getting up off the couch. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

Hermione waited until the sitting room door swung closed, then sprang up, rounding on Ron.

"I never did find out how that night went for you. Did you have fun? Was Padma a 'decent kisser'?" she imitated Fleur. "Maybe she taught you how to handle Lavender?"

"Nothing happened that night," Ron defended himself.

"Well, then why, five years later, have I still heard nothing?"

"You never told me what all went on with Vicky!"

"I've told you not to call him that! And when I tried to tell you, you didn't want to listen!"

"Well, what if I thought you didn't want to hear what happened on my date?"

"I want to know now!"

"Fine!" Ron yelled. "I walked her through the doors, we sat down at a table, Harry and Parvati joined us, some guy asked Parvati for a dance, and then one of his friends starting dancing with Padma. That was it. Harry and I talked, you, Percy, Krum, other people talked to us, we overheard some conversations _which we told you about_, then you and I had a knock-down, drag-out fight. Kinda like now. Arrgh, this was supposed to be great, but now it's all shot to hell!"

Hermione grew silent. "What was supposed to be great?" she whispered.

Ron turned around, sighing, and running a hand through his hair. "Fleur was just supposed to bring up some good things about the ball."

"Why?"

"Because, looking back, that's when I first started falling in love with you."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione breathed. She walked over to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'm sorry I yelled."

He wrapped her in his arms. "'S all right," he murmured into her hair. "Cause now I can do what I was planning on doing." He pulled away from Hermione, pulled something out of his pocket, and got down on one knee. He grabbed Hermione's hand and looked up at her.

"I love you. More than you possibly know. I've been in love with you for the last five years. Every day I spend with you make the list of the best days of my life. And since I've met you, every day without you makes the list of the worst. And I don't want anymore days on the worst list. I want to spend every day with you. Hermione Jean Granger," he opened the jewelry box with his other hand. "Will you marry me?"

Hermione gasped, staring at the small diamond ring in the satin-lined box. She could barely see through the tears that were streaming down her face, but she knew it would fit perfectly. "Yes," she whispered. "Of course, yes!" she shrieked, kneeling down to Ron's level and pressing a firm kiss on his lips. Ron was so shocked that she agreed that he didn't respond until she started pulling the ring out of the box. Then, he pulled it away from her. She looked hurt, until he picked up the ring himself and slid it on her finger.

"So," Ron said, "I guess you want to get Fleur so you can start planning right away. When do you want to have the ceremony?"

"Tonight."

"What?"

"Let's do it. We'll Apparate to Harry and Ginny's and get a Portkey to one of those chapels in Las Vegas. I'm sure there's one for wizards and witches. It'll be you and me, our best friends as witnesses, and a preacher who might be dressed as a member of the Weird Sisters. Let's not wait. Let's get married on Christmas."

"But what about our families?"

"My parents won't care. Your parents eloped themselves. Your brothers won't care, and I really don't want Muriel there. Our friends will just wonder what took so long."

"Don't you want a dress or all those traditional things the bride is supposed to have? Something old, new, borrowed, and blue? I mean, the ring is an antique I found in a Muggle store."

"Well, that's old. I'll buy a veil in America, borrow some earrings from Ginny, and wear blue jeans with my white sweater. Any other questions?"

Ron thought about it for a minute. "Are you ready to go?"


End file.
